


Musical Chairs

by wyvernsongs



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: College, Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Music, Olivarrysecretvalentine2019, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 21:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernsongs/pseuds/wyvernsongs
Summary: Oliver used a bow like it was an extension of himself and he had years upon years of practice with the violin. Because of this he was quite sure he'd get first chair come the next auditions for Julliard's orchestra.But then Barry Allen shows up, an scholarship prodigy, and throws a wrench in his plans.





	Musical Chairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kye_Kreole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kye_Kreole/gifts).



> This isn't edited and this is soooo so so last minute pinch hit. I'll go back and fix it later. 
> 
> Also a little experimental but I hope you like it! Happy Valentine's Day!

Oliver Queen knew he was getting first chair. He had first chair in elementary, intermediate, and highschool. That was no contest. It was where he belonged. Moira Queen had practically shoved a violin in his hand fresh out of the womb. The bow was just an extension of his arm. It was easy. It was boring. And he was the best.

\--

Oliver had easily gotten into Julliard. With the amount of money his family had and the way he played the violin like he breathed (second nature) he wasn't surprised.

\--

There was a scholarship student that got in on his musical talent alone. That was... Interesting. 

Oliver made a note to look into the student. Especially with how the younger Ramon brother and Laurel spoke fondly of him, only a week into the new semester.

But maybe another day. Oliver had chair auditions to prepare for.

\--

Oliver never did get around to meeting the scholarship student, who turned out to also be a violinist. This caused the natural competitive side in him to roll to a boil whenever his friends mentioned the man.

He ignored Tommy asking if he would be open to a string quartet with himself, a piano player, the Ramon brothers who played cello and viola respectively, with this Allen fellow and Oliver as the two violinists. Tommy sighed and gave him a look. Oliver ignored that, too.

It doesn't matter. Oliver was better.

\--

"Barry Allen," The man in front of him introduced one day, a month into the semester, with a sunny smile.

It's not as if Oliver was going out of his way to avoid him, make sure they never got too close to talk. (He was.)

"I know who you are. And I assume you know who I am," Oliver waved off the pleasantries. He wasn't there to make friends. Not with the other violinist. They were competition and nothing more. He ignored how clouds covered that sun.

\--

Oliver knew Barry was good. Without hearing him play, it was obvious. He would have had to be just to be at the college on his merit alone, although his apparently stellar grades had helped.

(He ignored the way Tommy and Hartley gushed about him, the two having Barry in a few of their classes. The traitors. Neither of them shared his instrument, they didn't understand that this supposedly sweet nerd was his direct competition.)

Hearing him play strengthened his resolve to absolutely hate Barry Allen.

As loathe as he was to admit it, Barry was amazing. The amount of passion he had while playing was incredible. He obviously loved playing.

Passion and love wasn't something Oliver felt towards playing in a long time. Only necessity and restlessness.

Yes, he hated Barry Allen. There was no way Oliver Queen was going to let him take the first chair from him. (Mother would be disappointed.)

\--

Blood rushed into Oliver's ears as he stood stock still, staring at the ranking results. 

First Chair: Bartholomew Allen

Second Chair: Oliver Queen

He didn't look to read who was next. It didn't matter. 

Barry Allen?? First chair? Practically impossible. The man had less than a year of violin playing under his belt. From gossip around the halls, he knew Barry had transferred from a school specialising in musical theatre, so he must have a good ear for music, but it didn't mean that he was a prodigy. 

There must be some mistake. Oliver had been playing for more than a decade. He should be first chair. 

\--

"Okay, but have you heard him play?" Hartley nudged at Oliver, an eyebrow cocked, "Because he's amazing. He agreed to do Madrigal Sonata with Tommy and I last night, since you had those Queen Consolidated meetings to go to."

"I said I was sorry for cancelling last minute, but did you really have to get him of all people to fill in for me?"

"Less than a day to learn how to play a song with a flute and piano and it sound like we're in sync with eachother? Would have been impossible with anyone else. Barry is literally a prodigy. We brought one of the judges to tears." Hartley told him. 

Oliver pinched his nose. There was no way. No way Allen was that good. (Oliver had heard him auditioning for first chair. Unfortunately, he was that good. But Oliver was better. He had to be. This was all he was good at, especially if you asked his mother.)

"He really is great. I've played with him before in that quartet I tried to get you to join. Oh! You remember that transition I was struggling on? He helped me through it, easy peasy. I like him." Tommy chimed in. 

Oliver threw up his hands, "E tu, Brute?"

"Hey," Hartley nudged him, "Give him a chance, alright? It'll be better for you in the long run to make nice with him." The flute player pointed out. 

"Or I could break his bow hand and take his place for the upcoming concerto." Oliver half joked. 

Tommy rolled his eyes, used to his best friend's dramatics. 

\--

"Shit, shit, fuck!" Barry Allen exclaimed, when a concerning crack came from his wrist. 

Oliver looked on, eyes wide. 

He was joking about breaking the other's hand! He didn't mean to actually go and do it!

Oliver quickly rushed around the risers and lifted up the side Barry's hand had gotten caught in, watching as Barry pulled it out and clutched it to his chest, hissing in pain. 

"I promise I didn't do that on purpose." Oliver blurted out. (And in retrospect, it sounded way more suspicious now that he had said that.)

Barry looked at him blankly, "I'm going to the nurse. You'll have to move the rest of the risers by yourself somehow." 

Oliver swore under his breath as Barry turned to fast walk out the orchestra room doors. He ran to the cubbies, grabbed his and Barry's things and went to catch up with him in the hallway. 

"I've got your bags."

"Why are you helping me? You've made it very obvious that you dislike me." Barry ground out, and continued on when Oliver stayed silent, "Isn't this good for you? I know how hard you've been practicing my piece." He finished, voice bitter, eyes ahead. 

Oliver bit his lips and looked down at Barry's, violin case. 

Maybe Laurel was right when she said he was being obvious about his distain for Barry being first chair. It wasn't as much as the person, but the talent that seemed to have sprung out from nowhere.

Nowhere to him, but Barry had have to have honed it somehow, and possess almost obsessive discipline to be at the level he was now. 

"I don't care what you think. I deserved first chair. But congrats. At least your mom will be happy. But will you? Is this something to be proud of?" Barry said, when they stopped in front of the nurses office. He turned and held out his good arm for his things.

He obviously thought Oliver had done it on purpose, and with the way Oliver had acted the past three months, Oliver didn't blame him.

Oliver tightened his grip on Barry's violin and pushed past him into the nurse's office, making Barry follow him in.

It served him right, Oliver thought, that Barry's face was shuttered, eyes distrustful, when he was normally very open with others.

Oliver was going to make it up to him. Even if it risked his mother's (delicate, easily retractable) pride in him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There'll be a resolution chapter, I promise.


End file.
